Climbing Ben Nevis was brought forward a couple of weeks this year as Easter fell at the end of March rather than early April. In addition, there was a sudden cold snap for the UK which started off in Scotland and worked its way South.
Ben Nevis
K and I set off around midnight Thursday, driving up to Fort William to arrive at the Glen Nevis campsite early on Friday morning. We spent the day setting up camp, shopping for provisions and catching up on a little sleep as well as sneaking a quick look at Ben Nevis itself, plus examining the weather reports for the summit. It was K’s first hike up the mountain and he was unsure what to expect. I was fairly more certain, but the erratic weather conditions on Ben Nevis can catch anybody out.
Saturday dawned quiet and clear in the glen which is always a good sign. We could see some snow blowing around the summit but it was clearly intermittent, suggesting occasional wind rather than a continuous gale that would have caused serious problems. We had a quick breakfast and set off up the steeper path near the Hostel.
As soon as we joined the main path from the Ben Nevis Visitors Centre we could feel that the wind was gusting, and from previous trips I could tell that it was going to be a cold one. The forecast had given temperatures of -1°C and -24°C with windchill taken into account, and it certainly felt like it! By the time we reached Lochan Meall an t-Suidhe, K was ready to add a jumper under his coat and a quick, almost military operation was needed.
The rest of the trip up the Ben was uneventful but tiring. With the cold snap came much more snow which helped pack together the loose rock at the expense of making everything more slippery and twice as cold. All things considered, I think I prefer the ascent with the snow than without it, as the rocks played hell with my feet last time.
We reached the summit around 13:30 having spent a good 6 hours hiking, stopping for multiple breathers and photo opportunities along the way. The emergency shelter was covered in snow and ice in the extreme cold but was still surrounded by a large group of avid climbers. We stood for a few photos, made a phone call or two (mobile phones do work on the mountain, but you should not rely on them) and then decided to head back down after about half an hour. It might seem a short stay after all that climbing, but I had no desire to be on the mountain after dark and K was in agreement.
Ben Nevis Summit
The descent of Ben Nevis is a different kind of torture altogether. Where the climb is hard on the muscles, coming down the mountain does horrible things to your joints. Even with the aid of hiking poles, my hip and knees were all protesting by the time we’d reached the summit, and they were screaming blue murder all the way down. Although we didn’t stop as often, we did need to give our joints a few rests to recover from the repetitve pounding of descending what feels like a million steps.
In a couple of places, especially on the uppermost slopes, we found long stretches of snow free from rocks and other detritus, and we slid down these on our backsides where it was safe to do so. Probably nowhere is safe on Ben Nevis to do this, but we did it anyway. A Chinese couple who were fully kitted out with climbing spikes, axes and wotnot watched on in amazement (they probably thought we were mad) and then joined in, sliding down 20-25m at a time until we could see the path that had brought us up.
Back at camp we had a cup of tea, a burger and a nice long sleep. The rescue helecopter was out plucking a few unlucky souls from the sides of the mountain and it was still flying after dark, which brings home just how dangerous Ben Nevis can be – roughly eight people die on the mountain every year.
Sunday brought all our aches and pains around again, as we hobbled around the camp making cups of tea, reading (Blaze by Stephen King Richard Bachman this time) and doing the odd spot of cooking. We took a walk up to the Ben Nevis Visitor’s Centre and looked through the exhibits, I bought the DVD shot by a local chap for my mum who – despite being almost of retirement age – still wants to climb at least halfway herself. I figured it would show what she was in for if she attempted it at least. We also bumped into the Chinese couple again who recognised us straight away and laughed about coming next year.
The cold snap had passed us and headed towards where we live while we were up in Scotland, and I received a great photo of my little niece building her first snowman. Our drive back South this morning was cold but careful since we were heading through patches of snow on occasion, but on arrival home we found it had all melted – typical! Still, a nice long bath, a long-deserved shave, a cup of tea and a quick check of the email (mostly spam – grrrr), and I’m feeling a bit more human again. Job done for another year!
Some thoughts on provisions:
200g Fruit & Nut
3 Medium Bananas
1L Lucozade
Other stuff you need if you want to attempt this yourself:
Whoops – I completely forgot to tell anyone outside of work that I was going away for Easter, off up to Scotland again for another crack at climbing Britain’s highest mountain, Ben Nevis, near the town of Fort William.
As per usual, I stopped in the handy Glen Nevis campsite/caravan park at the foot of the mountains after driving up there through the night. My reasoning is that it’s easier to get a good spot if you arrive early, and as they open at 8am, I should be there.. well earlyish. In fact I got there at 7am and just mooched about for an hour.
Friday (Bank Holiday no.1) was spent getting set up and doing a bit of shopping as well as keeping one eye on the weather – a largely pointless task since one can have bright sunshine one moment and pouring rain the next. Such is the weather in the glen. It was mainly dry, and it was looking good.
Saturday I went up. I started out at 7am on the grounds that I knew it would take me ages. I’m 36 and three stone overweight so I wasn’t exactly going to sprint up the mountain. As it was, someone had already started out ahead of me and I could see him a few turns further on. This year I used the bridge near Cafe Beag, rather than the one at the Visitor’s Centre, since it was closer to the camp and a shorter climb, albeit a steeper one. Still, my legs were fresh, right?
My failed attempt from last Easter at least prepared me for the day’s festivities and I took a lot less weight with me this time. I had two pints of water, a honking great block of Fruit & Nut, emergency blankets and my mobile phone, with camera. I probably carried one third of the crap I had previously, and with my newly-purchased hiking pole (the vertical one, right) I made pretty good progress for a fat fella.
Some time around 1pm I got to the top with the help of a mad Scotsman called Bob who decided to cheer me on every step of the way up – effectively preventing me from dropping out from pure shame. Bob was taking some photos of the route up for a bunch of guys in Milton Keynes (“I’ll nip up at the weekend and take a few snaps for you!” – as you do). It was a hard slog but I got there in the end, and Bob took a photo to mark the occasion. Hopefully I spelled my email address correctly and it’ll be in my inbox before long.
Coming down I.. uh.. actually I fell asleep on a bit of ground that was less rocky than most parts, and only woke up when some young lady shook me to ask if I was alright. I think I did pretty much the same thing last year as well.
Sunday was a day full of pain and stiffness. My calf and thigh muscles feel like they’re made out of wood, and are driving splinters into my nerves whenever I try to do something complicated like stand up, or sit down. I spent most of Sunday drinkin cups of tea and reading ‘The Skin Gods’ by Richard Montanari, which wasn’t a bad way to spend a day when all’s said and done. The rescue helicopter was out in the afternoon, plucking people from the lower slopes.
Today, Monday, (Bank Holiday no.2) is still pretty bad, even after soaking in a nice hot bath for an hour and then having a shower on top of that, but I can move a little bit. I think I’ll take the lift at the office tomorrow, all the same.
In preparation for this year’s jaunt up to Scotland, I went out for my 3-mile walk in my hiking boots. This was the very same pair I’d used last year in my failed, half-hearted attempt to scale Ben Nevis and I figured things wouldn’t be too bad – at least not as bad as the old trainers I used that took the skin off the back of my ankles.
The regular pounding of feet on concrete proved too much for my dainty plates, and I’ve been rewarded with a few blisters. I parked closer to the office this morning to minimise any further walking throughout the day.
This year I’ll be a bit more prepared and should make it to the top, where I can bask in the glory of accomplishment (while gasping for breath, naturally) before making my way back down again. K has said he’s up for the trip as well so it could be fun.
I may also invest in a couple of hiking poles, since the trip down proved to be the worst bit by far. The steps slope ever so slightly downhill, and they’re big enough to force you to drop, rather than step down. Repeat that over a couple of hours and it’s bloody agony, especally with my dodgy hip.
It’ll be a victory for fat, out-of-breath, old blokes everywhere.
No, no, I’m not dead, although there were sure as hell a couple of times yesterday when I thought I might have died and not realised. I didn’t make it to the top but I had a bloody good try, and I’m satisfied with what I managed.
Part of the problem was that I was packing too much weight – both in my rucksack and on my gut. It didn’t take long for my legs to start burning from the unaccustomed exertion, and that was in the first hour. I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to take a 70cl bottle of Grolsch up there with me. Damned thing weighed a ton by the time I got round to opening it!
By the time I got back to camp I was suffering from both exhaustion and slight drunkeness, which was not a good combination. I staggered into the toilet block on legs that felt like jelly and plonked myself down on a loo for my first piss in about eight hours. My legs took some coaxing to support me and the three steps outside gave me some difficulty, but I eventually made it back to my tent where I promptly collapsed into a heap.
This all happened yesterday. It’s Sunday afternoon now and the reason I didn’t post then is because my mobile has packed up. I can still switch it on but I can’t enter the PIN, since the bottom row of buttons doesn’t work, including the zero which happens to be on of the required digits. I think it got soaked in my sweat, and holding it under the dryer didn’t make any difference. I’ll have to post this on Monday.
But anyway, I’m still alive and I’m recovering well. I finished my book earlier and don’t really have anything else to do but try and get my legs to work properly. Sadly I’m back at work on Tuesday – bah.
I also have the beginnings of a rather splendid beard.
Evening approaches at the end of my first full day of rest since January and it’s been pretty good so far. Weather is still a bit on and off, but if it stays that way tomorrow then things should be fine on the Big Hill. Still concerned about the snow though.
I have a family of ignoramuses (ignorami?) who have set up camp about 20 yards further up the hill but I think I can sleep through their incessant jawing as long as the kids keep quiet. I feel sorry for the nice young couple they’ve set up next to.
Easter is upon us and I’m taking advantage of 4 consecutive free days to nip up to Scotland for a spot of camping. I’ll load up my car with various odds and sods and drive up there overnight to arrive sometime tomorrow morning. The TomTom is targetted on Fort William and I’ll be staying at the Glen Nevis campsite again.
On Saturday I’ll be heading up Ben Nevis, hopefully reaching the top sometime around midday. If you’re online about that time, check out the Ben Nevis Webcam and see if you can spot me. I’ll be lugging my camera, mobile and PocketPC up there and might actually post something while I’m at the top if I can get a signal.
Sunday I’ll probably be recovering and crying over the aches in my legs. I’ve bought PJ Tracey’s “Dead Run” to keep me entertained while the rain (no doubt) lashes down outside over the weekend, and then on Monday I’ll be driving back home.
